Lost
by TStabler
Summary: When the detective duo loses something important, during an undercover gig, they blame each other and go their separate ways to blow off steam. However, when one returns too soon, what is found might just make them forget losing in the first place. OWOS


**A/N: A one shot for my dear CaleighBenson.**

**DISCLAIMER: SVU and characters belong to Dick Wolf. This story belongs to Tstabler©**

She glared at him from across the room, a harsh, hateful look that expressed her deep misery.

"Would you stop that?" he spat, running a hand down his face.

"This is the face I make when I'm pissed," she said, dropping her arms to her sides and huffing. "I can't wait to get out of here, and away from you. I'm not even really your wife, and I want a fucking divorce."

"Fine!" he yelled. He snapped his head to hers, viciousness in his eyes. "Get me transfer papers, Liv. I'll fucking sign them right now!"

She flinched, hurt. "That's not what…" she paused and let her anger take over again. "You lost him, El," she hissed. "We've been here for three fucking days, we finally get him in our sights and you lose him! Do you have any idea how long we need to stay here now? We have to wait for him to fucking get back, that could be another week!"

He scoffed. "Right, it's all my fault! Maybe if you took your eyes off of me and concentrated on the case, we…"

"You egotistical son of a bitch," she said, cutting him off. "We're supposed to be on our honeymoon! I am supposed to look at you, jackass!"

"Not like that!" he yelled. He shook his head and grabbed his jacket. "Fuck! I can't do this with you right now! I need a drink. I'm going down to the bar. When I get back…we'll go find out where he went and when he'll be back." He left the room and slammed the door behind him.

"Shit," she said, dropping her head into her hands. "Damn it!" She rolled her eyes, kicked the foot of the dresser, and folded her arms as she slumped on the bed. She sighed as she flattened out and she knew she was too worked up to focus now. "Infuriating asshole," she hissed at no one, about Elliot.

She grumbled again as she realized she wasn't innocent in this. It was a joint effort, and they were both too lost in each other, too lost in the charade to notice their suspect leaving the hotel. Her thoughts drifted to why they'd lost him. Why they'd been so distracted.

The way he looked at her, like he loved her. They way he smirked, like he wanted her. The way he would pretend to kiss the skin on her neck and behind her ears, and his closeness alone made her wet.

She moaned out loud, her hands drifting up her shirt. She let her eyes slip closed as she thought about the way he danced with her downstairs, in the ballroom. The hearty laugh and playful touches, the way his hips moved against hers, the way he grew hard as she pressed into him.

"Mother fucker," she grumbled, her fingers finding her beaded nipples. She toyed with them as she thought about him, about how wonderful it felt to be his, even if it was only just for show.

"You don't know what you do to me, Elliot," she said under her wispy breath. She moaned as she gave her nipples a light tug, imagining it was him. His hands gripping her sensitive flesh, his fingers making the wetness pool between her legs.

Behind her closed lids, she saw his blue eyes piercing into her. The look in them was smoky, dangerous. She saw the image of him in her mind, his body thick and powerful, and she imagined him stripping for her. "God," she moaned, trailing her right hand down her body, slipping it into her pants.

Her left hand cupped her breast, and in her mind it was his calloused palm that was smoothing over her slick mound. "Oh, fuck, Elliot," she groaned as her back arched. She dipped one of her long fingers into her tightness, and she bit her lip to keep the moan quiet. She shimmied out of her jeans and spread her legs a bit, stroking up her wet slit, imagining it was his tongue.

She moaned again. "Elliot," she whispered, biting her lip as her finger twisted into her. She thought of his finger in the place of hers, his lips on her body, his kisses trailing along her heated skin. "God, El," she moaned, pushing another digit into herself. She found her rhythm, bucking her hips up into her hand as she envisioned him thrusting into her.

She was almost there, so close, and she squeezed her eyes shut to lose herself in the moment of bliss she was sure she was about to experience. "Yes, Elliot," she panted, her thumb slipping over her aggravated clit. "Oh, God, yes, El!" she cried a little louder.

She jumped, feeling someone else's hands on her body. She smirked; thinking of him was working, she could almost feel him. She felt his lips sliding along the skin of her stomach. His fingers trailing along the flesh of her thighs.

"Oh, Elliot," she whispered.

"God, Liv," she heard. "You're so fucking sexy," his voice cooed. "You're doing this for me, and it's so damn beautiful, baby."

She moaned at the sound of his voice, then her breath hitched. She opened her eyes, knowing she didn't have that vivid an imagination, and she jumped, ripping her hand out from between her legs as she tried to scoot back.

He reached out, though, grabbing her wrist. "Don't," he said. He tugged her arm toward him and placed her hand back over her dripping slit. He looked into her eyes with an intensity that scared her, and scared him, too. "Don't stop."

She held his gaze, confused, nervous, and excited. She took a shallow breath, unable to process what was happening, and she slipped her fingers back into her warm, waiting body.

"Oh, my God," he grunted. "Is this what you do?" he asked, his voice husky. He leaned over her, his lips just skimming over hers. "When you think of me, is this what you do, Liv?" He ran the rough palm of his hand, the object of her fantasy, down her body and one finger joined hers in the quest for release.

She gasped, his finger feeling nothing like what she'd imagined. His touch felt so much better. "Yes," she admitted.

"Good," he told her with a smirk. "Because whenever I think about you, baby, I do the same fucking thing. And ya know, I gotta say, thinking of you like this makes me cum harder than you could possibly imagine." He crashed his lips into hers and slipped his tongue into her surprised mouth. He thumbed over her clit, making her buck and moan, and he caught every delicious sound in his mouth. He pulled away from her, panting, and said, "I've dreamed of this, Liv. Watching you. Like this. I've dreamed of watching you cum. Of making you cum."

"Oh, my God," she groaned, her head thrashing. "Elliot," she murmured. "Please…"

"Please, what?" he asked smugly. Apparently, his arrogance followed him into the bedroom.

She took her hand away from her working sex, and she brought her fingers up to his lips. She thrust her index finger into his mouth and watched him jump in surprise, then moan in satisfaction as his eyes slid shut and his tongue looped around her finger. "What are you waiting for?" she asked, her eyes dark as he sucked her finger. "Make me cum, El."

He opened his eyes as he growled and pulled her hand out of his mouth, and he bent his head close to hers. "You want me to," he declared. "God, baby, you taste so fucking good. I want more."

She raised an eyebrow and watched as he moved down her body, his eyes still on hers, and she moaned louder than she ever had when he licked as his fingers thrust. "Fuck, El," she ground out, her hands flying to his head. "Oh, God, baby," she moaned.

He chuckled, loving the way he could reduce her to such drivel, and he flicked his tongue over her clit, keeping three of his fingers rhythmically moving in and out of her. "I guarantee," he said, "This is better than your fucking fantasy."

She moaned and nodded, holding his stare. "El," she whispered, her eyes closing again. "Oh, God, El, what are we…"

He sucked on her clit, making her forget her words and her protests, making her moan. He pistoned his fingers, thrust and twisted, drawing out her orgasm. "That's it, baby," he whispered. "Cum for me, honey."

She gripped the sheets with one hand as the other pressed his face further into her thrusting hips. "God, Elliot! Yes! Shit!"

He moaned as she came against his mouth, clenched around his fingers, and he growled, not wanting to stop no matter how much she whined.

"El, please," she said, her chest heaving. She pushed back on his head a bit and said, "God, El, no…shit, baby, I can't…"

"Sorry," he laughed, licking his lips as he crawled up and over her. He sucked her juices from his fingers and peered down at her. "I don't know what happened, and I don't know if it's gonna happen again, so I was trying to get the most out of it." He tilted his head. "Out of you."

Breathing heavily, sweating, and shocked, she looked up at him. "You want it to happen again?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. He caught her lips as she turned her head, and he kissed her tenderly. "I want to be inside you, next time. I want to make you cum again, by making love to you. I want you to realize that this was never just pretend."

She blinked, and she smiled, and she said, "What about the case?"

"He'll be back," Elliot said, leaning back on his knees and pulling off his shirt. "We'll get him. For now, why don't we just enjoy this little break, huh?"

She laughed as he dropped back down for another kiss, and she said, "Before you left…I…I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "Me, too, baby," he said. "We just…we knew what was happening and we didn't…"

She silenced him with a kiss. "No more talking," she mumbled against his lips.

He moaned and rolled them over, keeping her on top of him, against him, and in his arms. He chuckled as he kissed her, and he whispered, "Is this better than your fantasy?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, nodding with a grin. "Nothing beats the real thing."

"Don't I know it," he grumbled as his lips found hers again. And though they knew that their case could last a while longer now, somehow, they didn't seem to mind anymore.

**A/N: One word. That's all it takes. Review here, or on Twitter: TMG212**


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